Set after "Shoe Money Tonight"~~ previous / next
Casey looked slowly up from the desk. "'kay ..."
"I just ... thought you should know."
"Sally could really go for my sex and contacts?"
"I'm just telling you."
Casey had that wild-eyed look of terror he often wore as he asked, "Why?"
"I'm just telling you.
"Is this about the rundown?"
"No. This is not about the rundown. It's about your sex."
"And my contacts."
"Right."
"Dana."
"Why are you sitting there?"
"What?"
"You're just sitting there."
"We've been off the air for eight seconds."
"Are you still wired?"
"No."
"Good."
"Because Sally's in the control room?"
"And I'm talking about your --"
"Sex and contacts."
"Yeah."
"And I'm sitting here."
"It's three o'clock in the morning." Dana shook her head. "Don't you want to go home?"
"She really said that?"
"No, that was me saying that."
"I mean the contacts."
"And the sex."
"Right."
"Who cares if she said that?"
"Certainly not me."
"Thank you. Now get out of here."
"You're kicking me out?" Casey laughed.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm sick of looking at you."
"You're sick of looking at me?" Casey attempted his most adorable face, and Dana ignored it as she shrugged.
"I look at you all day. I look at you constantly. We work together from noon to midnight and your job includes sitting there being looked at by millions of people, including me. Tonight we played two hours' worth of poker together and I watched you sit here being looked at some more. I get sick of looking at you."
Casey almost looked hurt. "Then turn away," he suggested.
"It's exhausting," she replied.
"Turning away?"
"Looking at you."
"Why is it exhausting?"
"Nevermind."
"Dana."
"Nevermind."
"You look at me constantly?" Casey suddenly took in this statement.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's your job."
"It's my job for you to look at me constantly?"
Dana hesitated, searching for logic, and when it was not forthcoming plunged on without it. "Yes."
Casey laughed and shook his head. "Dana --"
"You're very familiar, Casey. I've studied your face for fifteen years, and I've got to say, once in a while I get very tired of looking at you."
"Hey, the sooner you stop telling me what a bore I am to look at, the sooner I can get out of your sight, there, Ms. Tact."
Dana looked surprised. "I never said you were boring."
"You said you get tired of looking at me."
"I know."
"Dana --"
"It was two seconds ago, Casey. I know I said I get tired of looking at you. I do get tired of looking at you. But I didn't say a word about being bored of looking at you."
"Then what's tired?"
"Tired is what I am right now. Can we go home?"
"That'd be fine."
Casey sat still in his chair, and Dana walked around him to Dan's empty spot and sat down. "I didn't mean that how you think I did," she said.
"It's okay," he answered.
"I know it's okay."
"It's not okay."
"Casey --"
"It's three in the morning, Dana."
"I get tired of cookies."
Casey blinked. "What?"
"Cookies. The kind that you don't bake. What are they called?"
"..No-bake?"
"Yeah. But except there's another name for them, too."
Casey shook his head abruptly. "You get tired of cookies?"
"A person's name. A man's name. The 'Something' Cookie."
"What do cookies have to do with me being boring?"
"I never said you were boring."
"Jim's."
"Yes! Jim's cookies. When I was twelve my brother Kyle learned how to make them."
Casey grinned. "Your brother Kyle made cookies when you were twelve?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Can I use that on the next NFL segment?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Kyle made cookies."
"And I loved them. And I ate way too many of them, and I got tired of eating them."
"They made you sick?"
"No. They were too good."
Casey paused. "What were we talking about?" he finally lost his nerve and asked.
"Go home."
"Why?"
"Because we have to cover racing tomorrow."
"What racing?"
"Thoroughbred."
"The horse?"
"No, Casey, the cookie."
"Dana."
"Dan reminded me."
"Of what?"
"That racing is the Sport of Kings. You can say that."
"Why would I say that?"
"Because it sounds nice."
"Does it?"
"Say it."
"What?"
Dana leaned on her elbows on the desk. "Say it."
Casey shrugged. "Horse racing is the Sport of Kings."
Dana shivered. "You see?"
"I see that you've been around Natalie too long."
"Guys?" Dan opened the door from the control room.
"Hey, Dan," Dana said without breaking Casey's gaze.
"It's after three," Dan announced. "I'm going home."
"G'night," Casey said absently.
"Sure. What are you guys up to?"
"We're discussing ... baking," Dana said.
"Well .. have fun."
"Did you know Sally could really go for his sex and contacts?"
"I suspected."
"Did you know Kyle Whitaker used to make cookies?" Casey added.
"Yeah, I did."
"How did you know that?"
"We brought it up on the last NFL segment."
Casey blinked. "Oh."
"Anyway," Dan said. "I'm heading out."
"G'night," Casey repeated.
"Dude," Dan said, as though Dana were not right there. "You're in the zone." He walked away, closing the door to the control room firmly behind him.
"Am I?" Casey asked with a teasing smile for Dana.
"Depends on your contacts," she said, returning the look.
"Excuse me, I believe contacts was listed second in the original sentence."
"What is racing?" Dana prompted, looking away.
"People, animals, or machines trying to go faster than other people, animals, or machines in order to win money or prestige."
"Casey."
"Racing is the Sport of Kings."
"I haven't gotten tired of listening to you yet."
"That's good to know."
They sat for a moment more, Casey staring at Dana while she looked the other way. "Oh," Dana finally said, realizing the time. "Um. Three-twenty."
"Yeah."
"Tomorrow."
"Yeah."
"G'night." She stood and walked away from him, suddenly almost flustered a little.
"Good night, Dana," he said after her, and she grinned and did not look back at him that night.
~Sary